The world’s most northerly capital, Reykjavík has a sense of space and calm that comes as a breath of fresh air to travellers accustomed to the bustle of the traffic-clogged streets in Europe’s other major cities. Although small for a capital (the population is barely 120,000), Reykjavík is a throbbing urban metropolis compared with Iceland’s other built-up areas; the Greater Reykjavík area is home to two out of every three Icelanders. If you’re planning to visit some of the country’s more remote and isolated regions, you should make the most of the atmosphere generated by this bustling port, with its highbrow museums and buzzing nightlife. But while it’s true that Friday and Saturday nightlife has earned Reykjavík a reputation for hedonistic revelry, with locals carousing for as long as the summer nights allow, the pace of life is in fact sedate.

Split roughly into two halves by the brilliant waters of the large, naturally occurring Tjörnin lake, the tiny city centre is more a place to amble around and take in the suburban-looking streets and corner cafés than somewhere to hurtle through between attractions. Reykjavík lacks the grand and imposing buildings found in other Nordic capitals, possessing instead an apparently ramshackle clusters of houses, either clad in garishly painted corrugated iron or daubed in pebbledash as protection against the ferocious North Atlantic storms of winter. This rather unkempt feel, though, is as much part of the city’s charm as the views across the sea to glaciers and the sheer mountains that form the backdrop to the streets. Even in the heart of this capital, nature is always in evidence – there can be few other cities in the world, for example, where greylag geese regularly overfly the busy centre, sending bemused visitors, more accustomed to diminutive pigeons, scurrying for cover.

Amid the essentially residential city centre, it is the Hallgrímskirkja, a gargantuan white concrete church towering over the surrounding houses, that is the most enduring image of Reykjavík. Below this, the elegant shops and stylish bars and restaurants that line the main street and commercial thoroughfare of Laugavegurare a consumer’s heaven. The central core of streets around Laugavegur is where the capital’s most engaging museums are also to be found, containing, among other things, superb collections of the medieval sagas. The displays in the Þjóðminjasafn(National Museum), Þjóðmenningarhúsið(Culture House) and Saga Museum, for example, offer a fine introduction to Iceland’s stirring past, while you’ll find the outstanding work of sculptors Ásmundur Sveinsson and Einar Jónsson outdoors in the streets and parks, as well as in two permanent exhibitions.

With time to spare, it’s worth venturing outside the city limits into Greater Reykjavík, for a taste of the Icelandic provinces – suburban style. Although predominantly an area of dormitory overspill for the capital, the town of Hafnarfjörður is large enough to be independent of Reykjavík and has a couple of museums and a busy harbour, though it’s perhaps best known for its Viking feasts. Alternatively, the flat and treeless island of Viðey, barely ten minutes offshore from Reykjavík, is the place to come for magnificent views of the city and of the surrounding mountains – there are also some enjoyable walking trails here, which lead around the island in a couple of hours.

Brief history

As recounted in the ancient manuscripts Íslendingabók and Landnámábók, Reykjavík’s origins date back to the country’s first settler, Ingólfur Arnarson, who arrived in 874 AD, brought here by his high seat pillars – emblems of tribal chieftainship, tossed overboard from his boat – and settling, in pagan tradition, wherever they washed up. He named the place “smoky bay” (reykja meaning “of smoke”, vík meaning “bay”, cognate with English wick), mistakenly thinking that the distant plumes of steam issuing from boiling spring water were smoke caused by fire. It was a poor place to settle, however, as the soil was too infertile to support successful farming, and Reykjavík remained barely inhabited until an early seventeenth-century sea-fishing boom brought Danish traders here, after which a small shanty town to house their Icelandic labour force sprang into existence. Later, in the middle of the eighteenth century, Skúli Magnússon, the official in charge of Reykjavík’s administrative affairs (landfógeti), a man today regarded as the city’s founder, used Reykjavík as a base to establish Icelandic-controlled industries, opening several mills and tanneries and importing foreign craftspeople to pass on their skills. A municipal charter was granted in 1786, when the population totalled a mere 167 – setting the course for Reykjavík’s acceptance as Iceland’s capital. At the end of the eighteenth century, the city replaced Skálholt as the national seat of religion and gained the Lutheran Cathedral, Dómkirkjan; eighty years later, with the opening of the new Alþingi building, it became the base of the national parliament.

Since independence in 1944, expansion has been almost continuous. As a fishing harbour, a port for the produce of the fertile farms of the southwest and a centre for a variety of small industries, Reykjavík provides employment for over half the country’s population. The city has also pioneered the use of geothermal energy to provide low-cost heating – which is why you have to wait for the cold water instead of the hot when taking a shower, and why tap water always has a whiff of sulphur.

Over recent years there’s been a substantial boom, too, in tourism. The ever-increasing visitor numbers to Reykjavík are largely due to the greater number of airlines now operating to Iceland, and the collapse of the country’s banking system and currency in 2008 which saw prices drop by half virtually overnight for anyone converting money into the formerly overvalued Icelandic króna. Consequently, Iceland has never provided better value for money.

Explore

Find out more

Excursions from Reykjavík

The capital makes a good base for excursions around Reykjavík, including to three of Iceland’s most popular attractions: the site of the old parliament, Alþingi, at Þingvellir, the waterspouts and waterfalls of Geysir and Gullfoss, and Skálholt cathedral – all within simple reach by public transport or, more expensively, on day-long guided tours from the city. Also worthwhile is the Reykjanes peninsula, a bleak lavafield that’s as good an introduction as any to the stark scenery you’ll find further into Iceland, and home to the mineral-rich waters of the Blue Lagoon – the most visited attraction in the country. If you’re only in the city for a short break, or flying on to either the US or Europe, Reykjavík is also the place to fix up adventure activities such as snowmobile tours or jeep safaris on nearby glaciers or whitewater rafting on the Hvitá river in the north.

Icelandic pop art

Erró is Iceland’s best known pop artist. His vibrant collages, depicting everything from Viking warriors to space-age superheroes all seemingly caught up in the same explosive battle, are certainly striking, if somewhat eye-blinding and not to everyone’s taste. Born Guðmundur Guðmundsson in Ólafsvík on the Snæfellsnes peninsula in 1932, Erró grew up in Kirkjubæjarklaustur before moving abroad to study at the art academies of Oslo, Florence and Ravenna and finally settling in Paris where he still lives today. In 1982 Erró (nobody knows why he chose this name, although he was forced to change from Ferró to Erró in 1967 after being sued) donated about two thousand of his works, including oil paintings, prints and sculptures, to the City of Reykjavík, a selection of which are on display inside the Hafnarhúsið.

Magnusson’s manuscripts

Despite so many of Iceland’s sagas and histories being written down by medieval monks for purposes of posterity, there existed no suitable means of protecting them from the country’s damp climate, and within a few centuries these unique artefacts were rotting away. Enter Árni Magnússon (1663–1730), humanist, antiquarian and professor at the University of Copenhagen, who attempted to ensure the preservation of as many of the manuscripts as possible by sending them to Denmark for safekeeping. Although he completed his task in 1720, eight years later many of them went up in flames in the Great Fire of Copenhagen, and Árni died a heartbroken man fifteen months later, never having accepted his failure to rescue the manuscripts, despite braving the flames himself. As he noted at the time of the blaze, “these are the books which are to be had nowhere in the world”; the original Íslendingabók, for example, the most important historical record of the Settlement of Iceland, written on calfskin, was destroyed, though luckily it had been copied by a priest in Iceland before it left the country.

The manuscripts remained apart from their country of origin until long after Icelandic independence in 1944. In 1961, legislation was passed in Denmark decreeing that manuscripts composed or translated by Icelanders should be returned, but it took a further ruling by the Danish Supreme Court, in March 1971, to get things moving, as the Danes were reluctant to see these works of art leave their country. Finally, however, in April that year, a Danish naval frigate carried the first texts, Konungsbók Eddukvæða and Flateyjarbók, across the Atlantic into Reykjavík, to be met by crowds bearing signs reading “handritin heim” (“the manuscripts are home”) and waving Icelandic flags. Even so, the transfer of the manuscripts wasn’t completed until 1997.

Swimming in Reykjavík

The swimming pool is to Icelanders what the pub is to the British or the coffee shop to Americans. This is the place to come to meet people, catch up on the local gossip and to relax in divine geothermally heated waters. The abundance of natural hot water around the capital means there’s a good choice of pools, which are always at a comfortably warm 29°C, often with hot pots at 39–43°C. Opening hours vary greatly but are listed at witr.is, under the swimming pools link. Bear in mind that because pool water in Iceland doesn’t contain large amounts of chlorine as is common in most other countries, you must shower without a swimming costume before entering the pools and thoroughly wash the areas of your body marked on the signs by the showers.

Vesturbæjarlaug

Wrecked in Reykjavík

A rite of passage for all Icelandic teenagers, the rúntur (literally “round tour”) is a drunken pub crawl that generally takes place between at least half a dozen bars and pubs, whatever the weather. Intent on searching out the place with the hottest action, groups of revellers (already well oiled after downing several generous vodkas before setting out) maraud the city centre, particularly on Friday nights. If you come across them, expect to be engaged in conversation or to see some rather unrestrained behaviour – but then nightlife in Iceland isn’t known for its subtleties.

Accommodation

Although Reykjavík’s accommodation options have mushroomed in recent years as the tourist influx has increased, pressure on beds in the summer months is always great and it’s a good idea to book in advance, especially in July and August. Prices rise by around third between May and September; those given here are for the cheapest double room during the summer months.

Eating

Reykjavík has the best range of places to eat in the country, mostly packed into the downtown area around Laugavegur and Austurvöllur square. Restaurant prices tend to be high, though, which may deter you from eating out on a regular basis and draw you towards self-catering, at least during part of your stay. The best supermarkets in the city centre include: 10–11, close to the Austurvöllur square at Austurstræti 17, which, confusingly, is open round the clock; and the larger Bónus, at Laugavegur 59.

Drinking and nightlife

Thanks to some cunning publicity from the Icelandic Tourist Board, Reykjavík is now deservedly known across Europe and the US for its nightlife. Although the scene is actually no bigger than that of any small-sized town in most other countries, what sets it apart is the northerly setting and location for all this revelry – during the light nights of summer, it’s very disorientating to have entered a nightclub in the wee small hours with the sun just about to set, only to emerge a couple of hours later (and several thousand krónur poorer) into the blinding and unflattering daylight of the Icelandic morning.